


No One Has to Know

by ursweetheartless



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Fantasy, M/M, Office!Sex, Oral, Professor!Spock, short!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ursweetheartless/pseuds/ursweetheartless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock was sitting at the desk in his office, the console in front of him full of student evaluations he should be sorting through, and tests that needed grading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Has to Know

Spock was sitting at the desk in his office, the console in front of him full of student evaluations he should be sorting through, and tests that needed grading. Most of this crop of students were not going to do well, he could tell that already, though one or two of them showed distinct promise. One young woman in particular sprung to mind, whom he was considering offering extra course work for extra credit. She would definitely make a fine officer one day.

 

He was startled out of his reverie by a sharp knock in his door, though he supposed this late in the semester it was to be expected. He already had far too many requests for extensions on deadlines for coursework and clarifications on their final assignment, all of which he met with the same responses. This class was fairly basic after all, and these cadets would never become officers if they did not learn to manage their time and resources appropriately. He opened his mouth to call for whoever it was to enter, but the door swung open before he could speak, a figure in a red cadet uniform standing in the frame with a familiar slouch and a cocky smile. Spock’s eyebrow furrowed once more.

 

“Ca-” The figure interrupted him before he’d even gotten one word out though.

 

“Please professor, call me Jim. And I had a few questions for you about the assignment, if you’re available at the moment.” Spock narrowed his eyes, staring into that all too innocent face for a moment before he nodded to the chair across his desk. Jim smiled widely, taking a seat, letting the door shut behind him, though he slid one hand over the keypad as he passed it. Spock didn’t have time to dwell though, looking up to meet Jim’s incredibly blue eyes across the table as he spoke.

 

“I was going over my course evaluations from class, and I couldn’t help but notice that I’m not doing so well. I was hoping maybe we’d be able to come to some sort of an… agreement. I don’t suppose you could be convinced to give me some sort of an assignment, for extra credit.” Jim leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the edge of Spock’s desk, their gazes locked. Spock found he couldn’t look away, especially not when Jim bit his lip, smirking up at him just the tiniest bit, and Spock had some idea now where this conversation was heading. It was improper and unethical and he wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to say no, especially not when Jim moistened his lips with a teasing swipe of his tongue and continued.

 

“I would really appreciate it, professor, and I’d be willing to do anything if you’d maybe reconsider your policy.” Spock’s mouth was dry as a desert now, and he opened his mouth but he couldn’t make words come. Jim’s smirk faded into an innocent smile that they both knew was a cover, because Spock could see mischief and sultry insolence sparkling in Jim’s eyes. He stood, taking Spock’s silence for some sort of consent, and stepped around the desk, crowding into Spock’s personal space.

 

“James, I do not think this is either the time or the place for such things. This is _entirely_ inappropriate, and-” Jim cut him off, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of his desk chair as he pulled it away from the desk, turning it so they were facing once again, eyes locked.

 

“Hush. No one has to know.” Spock narrowed his eyes.

 

“These are open office hours, James. Any student-“ Jim chuckled.

 

“I locked the door, professor. They’ll have to buzz if they want to see you, and I’m sure someone as smart as you could come up with a good excuse not to answer it. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.” Jim was close now, face inches from Spock’s, and Spock could taste the warm wet of Jim’s breath on his lips. Jim didn’t close the distance though, dropping heavily to the ground instead, kneeling with one hand on each of Spock’s knees. Spock could barely breathe, and he could most definitely not look away.

 

“Just sit back and relax, professor.” The protest died on his lips as Jim’s hands slid up his thighs, one along the top of his leg, the other dipping to the inside, silent against the smooth dark fabric of his uniform. His mouth was open, and still dry, as sure fingers opened his fly without hesitation. Jim broke their eye contact to look down, and Spock’s eyes couldn’t help but follow, a low sound bubbling up in his throat as Jim’s hand closed around him, drawing his shaft out into the cool air of the room.

 

There was one sure stroke, the warm rough surface of Jim’s palm against the sensitive skin of his cock making him shiver though he tried to suppress the movement, and then Jim’s head bowed forwards, and the wet velvet heat of his mouth closed around Spock.

 

Spock let out another sound, louder than before but still quiet, and far more desperate than before. Jim smirked around him, his head slowly sliding forwards until the head of Spock bumped against his throat. He slid back then, his talented tongue dancing over the double ridges at the head. 

 

And here, Jim was clearly in his element, his bright eyes falling closed, and his hands focusing on the task, one of them curled around the base of Spock’s shaft, the other dipping lower to cup his testicles gently, rolling them, and then sliding behind to press against the flesh there, the small bit of smooth skin before his ass, and Spock bites his lip firmly to keep from letting out any of the many words that want to tumble from his mouth, reducing them to small desperate noises that are not very much better but still preferable.

 

The console on the desk before him lets out a chime, loud above the obscenely wet sound of Jim’s mouth on him and the small noises caught in his own throat. It’s a message, an incoming video call, and he catches only a bit of the address– somewhere in headquarters –before he hastily dismisses it with shaky movements. His hands do not return to the chair’s arms though, but roughly settle on Jim’s head, sensitive fingers tangling with the silk of his hair. 

 

Jim hums his pleasure at that, moaning somewhere in the back of his throat, and Spock’s control shatters. He tightens his grip, moving Jim’s head in tandem to the buck of his hips, and it only takes a few shaky thrusts before his body tightens, pulling Jim’s head down unconsciously as he growls his release, spilling into Jim’s mouth.

 

As it passes, the storm of his orgasm dissipating into the languor of afterglow, his body relaxes, and his rough grip on Jim’s hair turns soft, fingers combing through it apologetically. Jim smiles around Spock’s softening member, his tongue working slowly, swallowing what is left in his mouth and gently cleaning Spock’s shaft before pulling back and resting his cheek against the rough fabric of Spock’s uniform pants, eyes sliding closed and contentment clear on his face as Spock continues to pet his head absently. Spock feels something in his groin twitch at the sight, and ruthlessly crushes the urge. He has already had one lapse in his control today, another would be unforgivable.

 

When the console chirps again, another incoming video call from that same number, somewhere across the campus, the medical building he thinks, he opens it almost immediately, glad for the distraction from his own weakness. It’s a familiar face, and one that makes him straighten guiltily in his chair.

 

“Doctor.” His voice is even, and he’s sure his face gives nothing away. McCoy scowls at him from the screen.

 

“Mr.Spock, have you seen Jim? He’s not answering his coms and he’s supposed to be at in his room, recovering, but when Chapel dropped by the check on him he wasn’t there. He’s-” Spock feels the chair being pushed back before he can register it, Jim emerging from the floor between his legs, kneeling beside him and beaming up at the doctor. McCoy’s face relaxes for a second before he pales, scowling more deeply that before.

 

“Dammit Jim! You’re supposed to be resting and recovering! You promised if I let you out of the hospital you’d take care of yourself. And what the _hell_ are you wearing? And why? Actually, no. I don’t want to know. I don’t need any more details about what you and the hobgoblin get up to behind closed doors.” Jim threw the doctor a lopsided grin, the kind that made even Spock a little weak in the knees.

 

“Calm down, Bones. It’s boring, cooped up in my apartment all by myself.” Jim’s voice is rough, and his lips were swollen from not so gentle use. Spock could feel the flush rising in his cheeks and looked away. “I gave it a day or two, but you had to know I’d bust out sooner or later. I was packing, and I found my cadet uniform, thought I’d come by and visit _Professor Spock_.” McCoy rolled his eyes, and Spock felt the flush darken on his cheeks before he could will it away. McCoy snorted.

 

“Well, get your ass back home, I think you’ve probably had more than enough excitement for one day. I’m heading out now, I’ll grab something for dinner on the way home.” Jim’s smile is soft, indulgent, and his hand is tracing random patterns on Spock’s thigh, right above his knee.

 

“What about that Thai place on 35th, the one we used to do karaoke at? They have a great vegetarian menu, and those spicy beef roll things you like.” McCoy looks away from the screen, nodding to someone across the room from him, and then looks back with a small sigh. 

 

“Yeah, that’s as good as anything. You bringing the hobgoblin?” McCoy doesn’t look thrilled with the idea, but he pretty much never looks thrilled about anything so Spock doesn’t take offense. Jim just looks up at him, craning his neck backwards, and the expanse of pale skin there makes Spock shiver just the slightest bit. He knows Jim felt the movement, but neither one of them acknowledges it. Spock nods.

 

“I will be able to finish my tasks in a minute or two, provided I can apply my undivided attentions to them. I will escort the captain home, if that is amenable to you doctor.” McCoy cocks an eyebrow, but shakes his head.

 

“Yeah, just make sure he goes straight back, I’ll meet you guys there then.” McCoy cuts the connection then, and it feels abrupt to Spock, who is used to more pleasantry than that from humans. Jim just smiles, and levers himself to his feet. He steps in close to Spock, laying a warm hand on his cheek, and gives him a slow, lingering kiss, though it’s closed mouthed and chaste when compared to their earlier activities.

 

“I’ll wait for you out by the door, _Professor_. Don’t take too long, I might get distracted and wonder off.” And then Jim is leaving, before Spock can come up with something to say to that, the door sliding quietly shut behind him. Spock stares at it for a moment before turning back to the console to finish up.


End file.
